<p>Reb Stein, the baker, is frustrated. He's never heard the phrase, "That's the way the cookie crumbles." </p>

Reb Stein, the baker, is frustrated. He's never heard the phrase, "That's the way the cookie crumbles."

<p>Reb Stein, the baker, is frustrated. He's never heard the phrase, "That's the way the cookie crumbles."&nbsp;</p>

Fear and Loafing in The Village

Welcome to The Village! 
On the edge of The Black Forest, somewhere between Russia and Poland (and occasionally Germany) is a small community. Eighty or so houses, more chickens than people. 

As Reb Gold says, "Visiting the Village is like eating warm rye bread. You don't need to be Jewish to enjoy it."

Fiction

Welcome to The Village! On the edge of The Black Forest, somewhere between Russia and Poland (and occasionally Germany) is a small community. Eighty or so houses, more chickens than people. As Reb Gold says, "Visiting the Village is like eating warm rye bread. You don't need to be Jewish to enjoy it."

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Fear and Loafing in The Village

Fear and Loafing in The Village